Beckon Page 3

  “Ryan is hardly a boy.”

  “Does he know how to handle you?” Amir stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned up against the door. There was no way she could open it without a fight. “Or is that the attraction now? You want to walk all over him?”

  “It’s none of your business,” she snapped out.

  “True, but it does make me curious. Why choose a man who can’t handle you? Who clearly isn’t your equal?”

  “Are you finished?” She held the briefcase in front of her legs. Belinda gauged the weight, vaguely wondering if she could use it as a battering ram.

  “What are you so afraid of?”

  “I am not afraid.” Belinda enunciated each word.

  Amir was not impressed. “Yes, you are, and I’ll find out why.”

  “Why waste your time? Can’t stand it that I called it quits first?” she asked, using her viciousness as her last weapon. “Did I bruise your ego?”

  “You put me through hell.”

  Belinda jerked at the gravelly voice. She looked at him – really looked at him, heedless of her previous decision not to make eye contact.

  “I have not slept for three months,” Amir admitted, the bleakness diffusing the battling gleam in his brown eyes. “My security team looked for you, but since I never knew your full name...I didn’t know what happened to you,” he whispered fiercely. His bronze skin took on an ashen pallor as he obviously remembered the sickening dread he’d lived through.

  Belinda’s mouth gaped open. She’d had no idea. She had thought he’d seen her as a sex partner and nothing more. “A-Amir,” she stuttered, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Amir drew back. “Your apologies mean nothing.”

  She realized the truth in that. A few words did not erase the past. “It’s all I can offer.”

  “I want more.” He stood straight and twitched his elegant jacket back in place. “I want you to fulfill the remainder of our contract.”

  “What! No way!” Damn it, he found her weakness and now he was going to use it. She wanted to stomp her feet and have a full-blown temper tantrum.

  “You owe me.”

  Belinda suspected that was becoming his mantra. “Not like this,” she hedged. She pressed her lips together in a mulish line.

  Wait a second. She frowned. Was she even considering agreeing? How had she gotten to this step? She realized she’d handled their break-up poorly, but it didn’t mean she had to have sex with him to make up for her behavior!

  “I’ll make it easy on you,” Amir said in his familiar superior tone, “since you can’t stand the idea of me. We’ll finish the contract this weekend.”

  “Two days? You’ll release me after two days?” Her traitorous heart sang at the offer. Her body thrummed with anticipation. Her mind responded with open suspicion. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. You just need to grovel at my feet, expose your soul to my eyes only, and submit to my every whim.”

  She rolled her eyes while her stomach did flip-flops. “Is that all?”

  “Worried, Noukrani?”

  She turned her head away, biting her tongue since her big mouth had already got her in trouble.

  Amir leaned closer. “Or turned on?”

  She whirled back at him. Eyes glittering, nostrils flaring, her flushed face held nothing back as she silently damned him to hell.

  He chuckled as he scooped out the necklace. “Wear this.”

  She wanted to shriek like a fishwife over the treatment of the necklace. Her necklace.

  Belinda stepped back. “I didn’t accept your offer.”

  “You’re considering it.” He pulled at her right wrist until she released her briefcase. Amir dumped the necklace in her palm.

  “We’ll meet Saturday,” he announced as he curled her fingers over the tangled gold. “My secretary will give you my hotel information.” He bent down and brushed a mocking kiss on her fingers. “Until then…think of me.”

  Chapter Three

  Belinda glanced at the clock again. She was expected at Sahib’s hotel room in two hours. She tapped her pen against the edge of her desk, knowing she shouldn’t go. Accepting the invitation would be incredibly stupid and dangerous to her newly mended heart.

  However, it would be closure.

  “Looks like you need some coffee.”

  “What?” She jerked and saw Ryan standing in her office. The door leading to the sidewalk was wide open. “Oh, Ryan. I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Ryan smiled as he closed the door. “Belinda, you’re too stressed out these days.” He presented a steaming cup of coffee from the corner deli.

  Belinda shrugged and rose from her seat. “It’s work.” She motioned to her cluttered desk and hoped Ryan would take the hint. He looked ready for the office wearing a white-button down shirt, navy slacks and a blue paisley tie. Ryan never worked on a Saturday and always tried to talk Belinda out of the habit.

  “Where are you going?” She sipped the fragrant brew, wondering why she couldn’t be passionate about someone who indulged her.

  Ryan grimaced. “The big shots want me to come in and work all weekend on some stupid project.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, that’s great.” She set the coffee on the desk.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “No, really.” She hurriedly explained her upbeat response. “Your managers must think very highly of you.”

  “Possibly. All I know is that I was specifically requested to work on the Amir Khan project this weekend.”

  Her stomach took a plunge. “Is that right?” Was Sahib the cause of that? Was he making her acceptance a certainty?

  “It’s a bummer. I wanted to take you to Forest Park this morning.”

  Belinda ducked her head. “It sounds nice, but I’m going to be – out of town working on a project.”

  “I see.” Hurt flashed through Ryan’s eyes. His mouth was almost set into a pout. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I got the go-ahead two days ago.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll keep an eye out on your townhouse while you’re gone.”

  “You’re sweet.” She impulsively reached over and gave him a hug. She drew back, but Ryan didn’t let go. She frowned. “Ryan?”

  “Sorry.” He let go abruptly.

  She smiled shyly. Ryan was thoughtful and kind. Attentive and charming. Attractive, too. She wished her heart would thump from his presence.

  But maybe it was good that it didn’t. She was safe from falling in love with Ryan. She could grow to love him, but wouldn’t experience the drama and devastation.

  Ryan read her stillness as hesitation. He rested his hand on her cheek. Belinda relaxed at the comforting warmth and leaned into his palm.

  She wondered if he knew anything about domination and submission. Would he be interested in experimenting? Could he sexually dominate her? How could she broach the subject?

  Ryan brushed his lips against hers. She kissed him in response. He tasted of coffee and eagerness. The tingling in her lips wasn’t earth shattering.

  But that was good. She had to remember that.

  His hands skimmed across her shoulders and down her back. She leaned closer into him. His hands flattened on her derriere as he slid his tongue into her mouth.

  Belinda was relieved that her body responded. Her nipples hardened. Her blood danced with anticipation.

  Her mind wandered.

  Sahib wouldn’t jab his tongue into her mouth at the beginning of lovemaking. He would tease her first by outlining her lips with its tip until she tried to capture his tongue. Since he hadn’t given her permission to do so, he’d punish her by starting all over again, returning to chaste kisses. Then when she passed that phase, he would skim his tongue along the interior of her mouth and she would try not to draw him into her. By the time he French kissed her, she would be shuddering like a racehorse at the gates.

  “I want you,” Ryan murmured against
her mouth.

  Belinda pulled her thoughts to the present. She had to concentrate. “Tell me what you want,” she said in her most seductive purr.

  “I want you.” His fingers dug into her bottom.

  She grasped his tie and slid her fingers down the length. “No, tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Spread your legs.”

  Disappointment crashed in her. Spread your legs? That’s it? It sounded incredibly boring, not to mention short. “No, no.” She rubbed her pelvis against the front of his pants. “I mean, tell me what to do to you.”

  “I want to fuck you.” He pushed her against the desk. “I want you to be wet, willing, and ready for me.”

  Belinda leaned against her desk, trying to remember her early sexual experiences before she’d discovered BDSM. She couldn’t recall ever sitting back and letting the guy have all the fun.

  She watched Ryan pull her T-shirt out of her jeans. His hands slipped underneath the white cotton and grabbed her breasts. A thrill tripped down her cleavage; it had been three months since a man had touched her. Ryan rucked her shirt above her breasts and fumbled with the front clasp of her bra.

  He groaned as her breasts sprang open and revealed her pink nipples. He pushed Belinda onto her cluttered desk and bent his head over her chest. He greedily latched onto her nipple and sucked hard.

  Desire bloomed inside her from the strong pull. The delta between her thighs felt moist and puffy. Belinda tried to focus on her arousal, but she felt too self-conscious. She didn’t feel like she was a part of what was going on.

  Ryan grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. He cupped her sex and she pressed against his hand. It felt… pleasant. Too pleasant, too vanilla.

  She needed spice to feed her senses, stimulate her mind, and make her emotions explode. If she wasn’t going to be a part of the lovemaking, her senses should rally against the absence rather than feel dull discontent.

  “Wait.” She had to stop before things got too embarrassing. “Wait!” She placed her hands on his head, but missed and hit his neck. Her fingers brushed his collar. An idea formed in her mind. She loosened the knot of his necktie.

  Ryan raised his head, his eyes bleary with lust. “Forget the shirt, Belinda. Take off my pants and suck me off,” he panted. He stepped back from her and ripped his belt off his pants, obviously deciding foreplay was over.

  Belinda pulled the paisley tie off his neck. “First blindfold me.”

  “What?!” His hands faltered on her belt. He gawked at her with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.

  “Never mind,” she muttered, the tie slithering from her fingers.

  Ryan stared at her as if she’d sprung another head. “Why do you want your eyes covered?”

  “No reason. It was just an idea. Here, let me unzip that for you.” She reached for his pants and Ryan took an instinctive step backward. “Or, perhaps you’d rather handle that part.”

  He hesitated. “I can’t.” he sighed, feeling like an idiot from his withdraw. Yet she’d made him feel…strange. “The mood is all wrong now.” His husky voice held a note of accusation.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ryan turned away from Belinda and buckled his belt. He blushed. “I’m not into kinky sex.”

  His prudish tone set her teeth on edge, but Belinda decided now was not the time to discuss it. “I understand,” she said calmly as she snapped her bra and pulled down her shirt. The uncomfortable silence scraped at her nerves. The rustling of clothes amplified in her ears.

  Ryan whirled around. “I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing.” He flashed her a disillusioned look. Like she was a fresh-faced salesgirl who’d pulled a bait and switch on an unsuspecting consumer. “You seemed like a nice girl.”

  Belinda zipped her jeans up with a flourish. “I am a nice girl.” Who just happens to enjoy sex. D/s sex. Lots of it.

  “You know what I mean.” He looked away.

  Where had the sweet, kind, and thoughtful Ryan gone? She suspected since she was no longer ‘a nice girl’, she didn’t get that kind of treatment. It was time to get him out of her office before the situation turned nasty. “Ryan, I like you a lot,” she said as she walked to the door, “but I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “It was working until you wanted to be hogtied.”

  Belinda rolled her eyes. “Hogtying is completely different.”

  Ryan took a step back, blinking his eyes. “You’re right, this – you and me – it isn’t going to work.”

  “That’s too bad.” She opened the door.

  “Uh, yeah.” Ryan glanced at her one last time. Sighing, he walked away. “I’ll see you around.”

  She closed the door the moment he left. Leaning heavily against the wood, Belinda decided it was a good thing she had already come to terms about what aroused her. Still, Ryan’s response was bothersome. It was so—well, backward. Thank God she hadn’t intimated at more than being tied up!

  Belinda locked the door with angry moves. The last thing she needed was for Ryan to cool down and come back to spout off a moral lecture. He should be flattered that she had tried to enjoy vanilla sex with him. She hadn’t gotten righteous because it hadn’t work and did nothing for her.

  Maybe it was Ryan. Maybe she would enjoy general lovemaking with someone like Amir. Even though Amir preferred BDSM, he wouldn’t be judgmental or repulsed by vanilla sex.

  Would she feel as passionate for Amir if their sex wasn’t as intense? She flopped into her chair and tried to imagine vanilla sex with Amir.

  Belinda opened her eyes and shook her head. Intercourse was one aspect of their D/s relationship. Amir incorporated her mind and spirit. His dominating personality reveled in her acquiescence. She’d craved his control. Even if they had tried vanilla sex, it would have developed into some level of D/s.

  She spotted Ryan’s paisley tie on her desk. Belinda snatched it up and wondered if she could still catch Ryan.

  Nah. Belinda settled back in her chair. Why bother. Ryan would consider it contaminated.

  She slid the tie between her fingers. The thick fabric felt rough against her palms. The dark color contrasted against her pale skin. The length and weight would have made a perfect blindfold.

  Curious, Belinda pressed the tie against her eyes. Absolute darkness. She loosely wrapped the tie around, wondering if it would be long enough. Her breathing became more erratic. She secured the fabric, welcoming the pressing knot against her skull.

  Touch yourself. Amir’s burred voice whispered through her mind.

  Belinda’s splayed hands slid past her cheeks and dragged down her neck. The shape of her face was rounder than she assumed; her throat soft. Her hands gravitated to the center of her collarbone.

  Noukrani, must I be specific?

  “Yes, Sahib,” she whispered. Her voice barely reached her ears.

  Touch your breasts. Cup them. How do they feel?

  Belinda reached under her shirt and massaged her breasts. She unsnapped her interfering lace bra and ran her fingers along the underside of her breasts. “Soft…full…”

  Heavy?

  Her breasts were small, but at the word ‘heavy’, they were overflowing her hands. Her fingertips bruised the soft flesh as she tried to capture her breasts.

  Tight?

  Her skin stretched away from her nipples, like petals from the center of a flower. The tugging rippled through her muscles, causing her to moan.

  “Yes,” she answered mindlessly. How did he know? How did he always know how she felt?

  Finger your nipples. That’s right. Thumb the tips. Round and round.

  Her nails lightly raked the puckered skin as she continued the mesmeric circles. Her nipples tingled, sensitive to the bump and brush of her fingers. Belinda imprisoned a nipple between her knuckles. She squeezed, hissing as her nipples stung.

  Noukrani…you’ve been most disobedient. I didn’t tell you to squeeze.

  “I’m sorry, Sahib
.” She squeezed again, squirming in her office chair.

  You must be punished. Remove your hands from your breasts. Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch them.

  Belinda reluctantly did as she was ordered, her breasts burning for her touch.

  You may proceed to your stomach.

  She lightly touched her stomach, tickling her rib cage with the touch her breasts craved.

  Take off your jeans and underwear.

  Belinda stood up and unzipped her jeans. She shucked them off and grabbed the band of her underwear. She kicked them off and sat back down in her chair. Belinda sprawled her legs apart, desperate to continue.

  Touch yourself lower.

  Her hands skittered across her pelvis, bumping against her hip bone. She rubbed the jutted curve, feeling the connection straight from her hip to her breasts.

  Lower.

  Belinda’s hand forked through her thatch of curls and into the slick wetness. She inhaled sharply through her nose as her inner walls surrounded her finger.

  Harder.

  She rubbed her dewy fingers against her clitoris, wanting it to be her nipple. Her nipples were tightening painfully. They were ready to pop off like the top of a shaken soda bottle.

  Bring yourself to come.

  “I can’t,” she whispered desperately. “I can’t.”

  Touch your breast.

  Her hands scraped her breasts, her fingernails raking her nipples. She squeezed them and the pleasure-pain ripped through her.

  Heat unfurled from her chest and billowed across her shoulder and stomach before coiling to her clenching womb.

  Belinda gasped as pure fire spattered across her skin before the white-hot orgasm mushroomed inside her. Every muscle tensed, harnessing the sexual energy, wanting to hold onto it until it was too much. She collapsed, sagging into her chair, gulping in air.

  Her body trembled from the aftermath. Her legs felt boneless and yet they shook. Her arms twitched as she raised her hand and pushed the blindfold into her hair.

  Belinda blinked, trying to adjust her eyes, to the glare of lights. Glancing around, the room felt empty. Void.

  Because Sahib was not there.

  Belinda’s lethargy swirled into letdown. She wished he were here, which was not a good sign since she’d spent the last three months working him out of her life.